


like you'll never let me go

by harinezumi_kun



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-17
Updated: 2010-09-17
Packaged: 2017-11-05 17:36:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/409167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harinezumi_kun/pseuds/harinezumi_kun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>so kiss me and smile for me/tell me that you'll wait for me/hold me like you'll never let me go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like you'll never let me go

**Author's Note:**

> something else for nicefinalbeam's [the melody lingers on](http://nicefinalbeam.livejournal.com/450371.html%22) quest, because i was watching "glee" again and heard [leaving on a jet plane](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f4hsC0nRvZM) and, well...my mind went straight to nino leaving for america. what can i say, ohmiya is my anti-drug ;p

It’s early. Early enough that it’s not light out so much as gray, and the nighttime chill still hangs heavy in the air. The streets are quiet and a little damp, and all the sounds seem far away and out of place—the purring of the taxicab engine, a creaky bicycle wheel, a dog barking somewhere. 

Nino stands, hand poised over the buzzer, in front of Ohno’s house. He shouldn’t do this. Hell, he shouldn’t even _be_ here. If his manager knew…well, it doesn’t even bear thinking about, but needless to say, he’d be in trouble.

But he’s leaving today. 

He stabs at the doorbell without letting himself think about it, then snatches his hand away again. Faintly, through the door, he can hear the melodic _dinggg-donggg_ echoing through the house. He makes a few awkward turns on the doorstep, fighting the urge to bolt.

Of course it’s Ohno’s mother who answers the door. She’s in a bathrobe, but carrying a cup of coffee, so at the very least Nino doesn’t have to feel guilty about waking her up or anything. Once she sees who it is, she looks surprised and vaguely bemused.

“Good morning,” Nino begins, bowing slightly. “Sorry it’s so early, but—”

“Oh, honey,” she interrupts, comprehension suddenly blooming on her face. “You’re leaving today, aren’t you?”

It’s Nino’s turn to be surprised, but before he can do much more than nod, she’s leaning forward to wrap him in a tight hug. For a moment, Nino is overwhelmed by the feeling of _home_ —the smell of fabric softener and milk-sweetened coffee and the gentle roughness of terrycloth. For a moment, and for entirely different reasons, leaving seems so much harder.

“You’re gonna do great, I just know it,” she tells him, giving his shoulder a squeeze as she pulls away. “But you came here to see Satoshi, huh? He’s still asleep,” and she rolls her eyes, “but let me go—well, do you want to just go up and see him?”

“Is…that okay?” Nino asks, trying not to sound as nervous as he feels.

Ohno’s mother nods, ushering him inside. “Of course, sweetie, of course. He’ll be glad you came to see him. Right upstairs, first door on the left.”

Nino bows again before heading up, and Ohno’s mother shoots him an encouraging little smile as she makes her way back to the kitchen.

Inside the house is just as quiet as outside, sleepy and slow and dim. Nino climbs the stairs as carefully as he can, trying not to disrupt the dreamy stillness in the walls. He’s only been here a few times before, but there’s something about Ohno’s house that just breathes comfort and warmth and Nino wonders if maybe he should have just waited on the stoop.

But he’s already here, standing in front of Ohno’s door and the little hand-stenciled sign that says “Satoshi”. And he’s leaving today.

Nino reaches down and turns the knob slowly, opening the door only just wide enough to slip through, then leaning back against it as it closes. He pauses there for a moment, letting his eyes adjust. Ohno’s curtains are drawn, and the room is cast in dusty shadows. It is crowded with twenty-five years worth of clutter—clothes and comics and broken pencils—and it seems so small. From where he’s standing, Nino can hear the snuffling breaths coming from the sprawled shape on the bed, can smell and taste Ohno in the close, still air. He fills his lungs to bursting, then lets it all out again, soft and slow.

When he’s as ready as he can be, Nino crosses the room and sits down on the edge of the bed inside the curve of Ohno’s body. He keeps his hands clasped firmly between his knees, though the temptation to reach out and touch is almost overwhelming. Ohno stirs a bit when the mattress dips under Nino’s weight, curling in tighter and letting out a ridiculous little snorting noise. Nino can’t help but smile.

How did this happen, he wonders. When did this happen? It used to be that Ohno was just a quiet, kind of weird kid who was cool to hang around with, had enough in common with Nino that he was easy to talk to, and was nice enough to hold his hand when he was seasick on that damn yacht. But somewhere between there and here, Nino fell in love. He hates how sentimental that sounds, but has grudgingly come to accept that it’s true.

“Leader,” he says quietly. “Oh-chan. Hey. Wake up.”

Ohno grumbles, scrunches his eyebrows together and sticks out his chin before burying his face in the pillow. Nino does reach out then, to shake Ohno gently by the shoulder.

“Come on, Oh-chan,” Nino tries again. “Please?”

Ohno groans again, then sucks in a long breath through his nose as he emerges from the pillow. There are sleep-marks across his cheek, and his hair is sticking up on one side. He squints blearily. “Nino?”

“Hi,” Nino answers, smiling crookedly.

Ohno blinks, so slowly that it’s more like he’s just forgetting to keep his eyes open. “’S early,” he says finally.

“I know. I’m sorry. But,” Nino falters, finds that his fingers are still wrapped around Ohno’s shoulder. “I’m leaving today.”

Ohno’s eyes slide shut again, and a little line forms on his brow. His breathing is still slow and deep, and just when Nino thinks he’s gone back to sleep, Ohno pushes himself up into a sitting position. 

“You came to my house,” Ohno says, like he knows that’s important, but not why.

“Yeah,” Nino agrees, moving his hand back to his lap. Suddenly, with Ohno more or less alert and focused on him, Nino feels his heart start to pound, can feel how the blood shakes him as it rushes down to the tips of all his extremities and back. 

“Nino,” Ohno says again, reaching out and tugging at Nino’s wrist. “Why did you come to my house?”

Nino badly wants to snatch his arm away, because he’s sure Ohno can feel how his pulse is racing, but at the same time, part of him knows this will be the last time Ohno touches him for three months. He takes another deep breath, trying to ignore how he trembles on the inhale.

“I came—I just wanted to—tell you—” but he can’t make the words come, and scrubs a hand over his face with a soft curse. He looks back up at Ohno with a plea in his eyes. “Oh-chan…” _Just understand_ , he thinks desperately, _you must understand by now, right?_

Ohno just stares at him, barely moving. But the furrow in his brow deepens, and Nino can see him thinking, eyes flicking over Nino’s face. Then he blinks, his eyes widen for a moment. And then slowly, so slowly, he starts to smile. His lips curl up on one side, parting just a little, and he looks so stupid, and Nino loves him—and misses him, how can he _already_ miss him?—so much in this moment that he thinks he could die from it.

“You came to my house,” Ohno says again, but with a shy kind of comprehension this time, glancing down and back up bashfully.

“Is that all you can say or something?” Nino asks, shaking his head and smiling in fond exasperation.

“We—we’re not either of us very good at saying what we mean,” is Ohno’s soft reply, and suddenly there is a new weight in his gaze that makes Nino’s chest feel full and tight and he realizes he’s stopped breathing. He nods dumbly, watching Ohno watching him.

Goosebumps jump up on Nino’s skin when Ohno’s fingers start to slide up his arm, careful and testing, settling somewhere around the edge of his t-shirt sleeve. And then Ohno is leaning towards him, unblinking, until Nino can feel Ohno’s breath against his face, and his eyes are starting to cross from trying to hold Ohno’s gaze, so he just closes them.

Nino almost jumps away when Ohno’s lips finally find his, but he makes himself stay still. He feels stiff and awkward and momentarily disappointed. But then he feels Ohno’s thumb moving against his arm, sliding up under the fabric of his shirt and back down, and all of a sudden it hits him—it’s _Ohno_ , Ohno is kissing _him_ —and he feels the breath he was holding leave him in a rush, and starts kissing back.

He only comes back to himself when he hears, from outside, from another lifetime, a short polite honk from the taxi that’s waiting for him. Swearing again, he pulls back. He has his hands braced on Ohno’s shoulders, unable to decide if he wants to pull him closer or push him away.

“I have to go,” he murmurs into the uncertain space between them.

Ohno nods, but his hands at Nino’s waist tighten. “Okay.”

Nino feels a little pang at that. Part of him was hoping Ohno would tell him to stay.

He starts to rise, but Ohno pulls him back instead, into a tight, trembling embrace.

“If,” Ohno says against his ear, “if you can’t say it now…I’ll wait. Until you get back. Or whenever.” He pulls away just enough to look Nino in the face. “I’ll wait.”

Nino just stares at him. He feels a hard, choking lump forming in his throat, but he’s not going to cry, dammit. If this is going to be the last time Ohno will see him until he gets back, he’s absolutely not going to cry like some stupid girl.

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” he manages, and though his smile is shaking, it’s there and he means it.

“Okay,” Ohno agrees, smiling and sounding a little breathless.

Nino tucks Ohno back into bed, kissing him one last time before heading back downstairs. He says goodbye to Ohno’s mother on the way out and receives another hug and a little package of homemade onigiri for his trouble. He apologizes to the driver when he climbs back into the cab, then tells the man to take him to the airport. 

As he watches waking-up houses drift by the window, Nino thinks of Ohno—his mussed hair and warm skin and how he said he would wait. He thinks of spending the next three months in the desert in a country where he doesn’t speak the language and everyone he knows will be on the opposite side of the world. But, somehow, leaving doesn’t seem so hard anymore.


End file.
